


(Blood)lust

by Zoadgo



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Aromantic, Biting, F/F, Hair Braiding, Marking, Post Battle Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-02
Updated: 2015-02-02
Packaged: 2018-03-10 03:05:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,693
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3274364
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zoadgo/pseuds/Zoadgo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lexa spins and slashes low across the belly of a Mountain Man who had snuck up behind her. Without bullets, they fall easily before her people. A feral grin curls Lexa’s lips, and she catches a glimpse of gold in the corner of her eye. She sees the Princess, small blade in hand, cutting down an enemy with a slit throat, letting him drown in his own blood. Sensing no dangers nearby, Lexa allows herself a rare moment to appreciate the sight that Clarke makes, red painted vibrantly across pale skin and blonde hair. The leader of the Sky People is a picture of strength, even breath spilling from her lips as she crouches slightly, looking for the next attacker.</p>
            </blockquote>





	(Blood)lust

Blood, and death, and pain are all familiar to Lexa. She embraces them as old friends, whirling amongst them and aiding them to their marks. Her sword flies through the air, slicing down foes and skipping over allies that she just barely distinguishes in time. She has faith in her abilities, trusting her body to move as it needs to in order to keep her spirit safe. There is no danger to her soul here, and should her body perish, she shall simply find a new host. Lexa is never more at peace than she is in the middle of a battle.

It’s nearing the end that the peace leaves her. As the enemies dwindle before her, sound returns, and what was once calm determination becomes unadulterated bloodlust. Where she had been a serene angel of death, Lexa becomes a demon, bared teeth permitting small grunts and hisses to escape her. She had felt at one with the world just moments ago, and now she feels as if she is its Queen, taking lives because it is her right. Had she come from another time, those thoughts may have disturbed her, once her mind came down from its high, but they are not wrong to her. To Lexa, even outside of battle, the power over life is hers.

She spins and slashes low across the belly of a Mountain Man who had snuck up behind her. Without bullets, they fall easily before her people. A feral grin curls Lexa’s lips, and she catches a glimpse of gold in the corner of her eye. She sees the Princess, small blade in hand, cutting down an enemy with a slit throat, letting him drown in his own blood. Sensing no dangers nearby, Lexa allows herself a rare moment to appreciate the sight that Clarke makes, red painted vibrantly across pale skin and blonde hair. The leader of the Sky People is a picture of strength, even breath spilling from her lips as she crouches slightly, looking for the next attacker. Her eyes light on Lexa, and the corner of her lips pulls slightly in a grin before a black look, somewhere between horror and true rage, falls on her.

“Lexa!” The shout rips from Clarke’s throats as her arm snaps forward, following an arc that Lexa had been attempting to teach her a few nights prior, and failing miserably. Lexa hears the shift of fabric behind her, the Mountain Men’s clumsy loud clothing, and she drops to the forest floor. There’s a grunt, and she rolls over with weapon in hand, only to see Clarke’s knife falling over slowly, embedded in the eye socket of her would be killer.

Lexa pants heavily, eyes wide at the close call. Of course she would come that close to death from one of the last enemies, his body being the last to fall to the ground. Thanks to Clarke, Lexa wouldn’t even have a scar from her stupidity.

“Are you okay?” Clarke’s voice comes from behind Lexa, quick footsteps following it. Lexa nods and pushes herself up, getting to her feet just as Clarke reaches her. 

“Yes, thank you-” Lexa finds the rest of her words stopping in her throat as Clarke lays fiery hands upon her skin, inspecting her closely to see if the man had hurt her. The same bubbling sense of being incredibly, vibrantly alive that had been coursing through Lexa just moments before returns, but this time it radiates out from every point where Clarke is touching her.

Lexa knows of this form of blood lust. When it is because of the blood, rather than for the blood. There was no shame amongst her people in finding a lover after a battle, even if it was just for one evening, or just long enough for both parties to achieve what they desired. Life is something to be celebrated, and the immediate wake of a battle is all about life. The next day is reserved for the dead, but the sun still burns high in the sky.

Clarke is different, though. Lexa doesn’t know of her people’s customs when it comes to those sorts of things. And Lexa certainly would enjoy such a union being more than a one time thing. Were she thinking clearer, without the scent of dirt and blood heavy in her lungs and the bright light illuminating Clarke’s hair like a manifestation of her compassionate spirit, Lexa might have taken these things into consideration.

But instead, Lexa’s body moves of its own accord. Her hand reaches up and she takes a few strands of Clarke’s hair between her fingers, toying with it gently and marvelling at how it can still glow so bright even after being touched by the soil on Lexa’s hands. She hears Clarke breathe in sharply as her fingers brush against Clarke’s jaw, the lightest of touches that cause a primal part of Lexa to beg for more.

“Lexa…” She can hear the reluctance in Clarke’s voice, and Lexa could almost weep at the rejection. But then she sees Clarke nervously glance at one of the men near them, who currently seems to be looking for a companion of his own, if Lexa is reading the gazes he’s shooting at one of the other men correctly. And this she can understand, and will happily oblige. If Clarke does not wish to be seen engaging in such activities in front of their combined forces, even though most of them have snuck away, then Lexa will find somewhere more private for them.

“Come. I know of a place where no one will bother us.” She holds her hand out to Clarke. No matter how much Lexa wishes to grab her and make her feel just as alive as Lexa is, she won’t. Clarke must come with her of her own free will.

And she does. It only takes a moment of deliberation during which Clarke chews lightly on her bottom lips, an act which makes Lexa inhale sharply and narrow her eyes as she exerts her self-control, and then her hand is in Lexa’s. And even that on its own is amazing. Clarke’s skin is so soft, even the faint scars seem smooth compared to the callouses that a lifetime of sword work and struggle had left on Lexa’s own.

Lexa leads them through the forest, setting a quick pace and feeling like a giddy child. This is a side of herself that she hasn’t let anyone see in a long time, not even her bed partners. She has always had to be their commander first, and anything else second. But Clarke, well, she’s a leader in her own right, and not of the Tree People. The grin she throws to Clarke over her shoulder is uninhibited and shows only a fraction of the joy she feels, and Clarke returns it with a smile of her own.

Lexa had intended to get them to her favourite hiding spot, a giant red cedar that had been hollowed out to form a small room at its base, possibly because it had once grown around something that had since rotted away. But as soon as they’re past the first few trees and well out of sight of the battlefield, Lexa can’t ignore the slight breathy giggles that Clarke is making behind her.

She stops her sprint near a large tree and turns to Clarke, who stops with a questioning look on her face. Lexa doesn’t wait for the question itself to be asked, she simply steps forward, crowding Clarke against the rough bark and staring hungrily at her lips. They’re slightly parted as she pants, the run having coloured her cheeks, and Lexa decides that a small taste won’t spoil her appetite.

She brushes her fingers along Clarke’s jaw, tracing it back until her hand cups the back of her neck. She can feel Clarke shift their still linked hands, intertwining their fingers and pulling Lexa towards her. The tension between them grows, and Lexa is the one to break it. She pulls Clarke to her, pressing their lips together in a kiss that would probably be slightly too painful, had they not both just come from a fight. As is, the slight clash of sensitive flesh and teeth is perfect, pain becoming merely brilliant sensation.

Clarke bites at Lexa’s lower lip, and she groans as Clarke’s tongue slips out to soothe the sting. Lexa’s hand tightens involuntarily on the back of Clarke’s neck, and she presses against the other girl more, slotting a leg in between Clarke’s, and moving it slightly. She grins into their kiss as Clarke gasps lightly at the friction which Lexa knows must not be nearly enough, her free hand grabbing at Lexa’s hip in an attempt to pull her even closer. At the feeling of Clarke’s fingers burning their mark into the flesh on Lexa’s side, she decides they need to get somewhere more private. Now.

Their lips drag together once more before Lexa pulls away reluctantly. She can feel Clarke’s breath ghost over her lips, and she groans slightly beneath her breath as she takes a step back.

“Come, it’s not much further.” Clarke merely nods, and Lexa forges their path through the forest again. Although the world seems almost impossibly bright right now, and every blade of grass seems a work of art, Lexa tramples past it without paying any of the beauty the smallest amount of attention. There’s something far more important waiting once they reach her hiding spot.

And then it looms out of the forest in front of them, hidden until the last minute by the foliage of the other trees. Lexa can hear Clarke’s small gasp at the enormity of the cedar, and she smiles to herself as she pulls Clarke into its base. When Lexa had first found the place, it had been full of cobwebs and their attendant spiders. Now, furs line the ground and only a reasonable amount of insects are permitted to take residence within the tree. Lexa would not be so cruel as to reject nature entirely from the abode that was formed of it.

“Wow.” The words is a breathless praise from Clarke’s lips, and Lexa feels proud of her little home away from home. Clarke releases Lexa’s hand in order to brush her fingers along the living walls, tracing the lines of bark with light touches that Lexa desperately wishes were being laid against her own skin.

“This is mine, ours, for as long as you wish. None will bother us here.” Lexa considers saying something foolish and romantic, but that isn’t her. That would be tantamount to lying to Clarke, which is something she never wishes to do. And, regardless, her comment receives the desired effect.

Clarke turns away from the walls and walks towards Lexa, stopping one step closer than she normally would. The smile on her lips tips past simply pretty into the realm of seductive, and her knuckles brush against Lexa’s thigh as she joins their hands again.

“As long as I wish, huh? Won’t anyone miss us?” Lexa would be worried that it was a genuine concern, but the smile is still there, and Clarke’s thumbs are stroking the back of her hands. So, this must be some form of game.

“Not tonight, nor until long after the sun rises.” Lexa doesn’t know the rules of this game, but she seems to have done well, because Clarke raises her arms and wraps them around Lexa’s neck.

“Well then, I guess you’d better get to work.” And that is all the permission Lexa needs before pressing her lips to Clarke’s once again. She tastes sweat and blood, mingling with the flavours of the forest, and their embrace becomes tinted by the battle. Lexa backs Clarke against a wall again, and Clarke responds by using it to arch her body against Lexa’s, every soft curve providing delicious contrast to Lexa’s own hard muscles.

Lexa’s mouth leaves Clarke’s, trailing kisses down Clarke’s neck to the curve of her shoulder. She vaguely registers a clinking of metal as Clarke manages to unbuckle her shoulder piece and it falls to the ground. Clarke’s skin tastes metallic and like the forest they fought for their lives in, and the way that she moans softly when Lexa nips at her drives her mad, wanting to bite into the flesh in front of her and mark it. 

She breaks away from Clarke’s body, a part of her howling at the loss, settling instead on removing the infuriating clothing separating their skin. Clarke’s shirt is easy, although Lexa feels a pang of guilt when she hears a rip as she pulls it off of Clarke. But that quickly fades to amusement as Clarke’s brow creases deeply, her finger skipping over Lexa’s laces and buckles, seemingly at a loss for how to undress her. Lexa can’t prevent the small chuckle that spills from her lips.

“Here, let me.” She takes a step back, ignoring how cold she is without Clarke’s heat against her, focusing instead on the girl’s hungry gaze. She removes each article of her armour deliberately slowly, leather laces and salvaged plastic clips slipping through her fingers as she slowly bares herself. Some might feel self-conscious under such intense scrutiny, but Lexa doesn’t. Even once her flesh is bared to Clarke, she still feels as powerful as in her full battle gear.

This time, Clarke moves to Lexa, hands tracing the scars on Lexa’s back as her own flirt with the waistband of Clarke’s pants. Every patch of skin that Lexa had thought was dead due to the old injuries suddenly seems alive, intoxicated in the same manner as the rest of her by Clarke. Lexa drags her nails lightly up Clarke’s side, drawing a shiver from the girl, as Clarke’s mouth mirrors the path Lexa’s had followed earlier. She feels her breath catch in her throat as Clarke’s tongue tastes her shoulder, and god, does she ever want to feel her teeth.

“Please, Clarke.” Lexa has never been one to shy away from what she wants, and right now she wishes to have something, however temporary, to remember this by. “Mark me.”

Clarke stills for a moment, during which Lexa threads one of her hands into Clarke’s hair. But the moment of hesitation passes quickly as Clarke must grasp what Lexa meant. The next thing she knows, Lexa’s fingers are tightening in Clarke’s hair as dull force digs into her flesh. Lexa can’t stop, doesn’t want to stop the moan that falls from her lips. Objectively, she knows this must be painful, blood pooling against her skin as Clarke removes her mouth and kisses the area tenderly. But Lexa is anything but objective right now, and the sensation is more pleasurable than she could have thought possible.

Lexa uses the hand in Clarke’s hair to pull her away from her, gently. She presses a quick kiss to Clarke’s lips and then descends to lightly trace her mouth over the other girl’s chest, dragging her teeth very gently over pert nipples. She swirls her tongue over the peaks of Clarke’s breasts as her thumbs trace her hipbones, following them to Clarke’s pants and teasing the skin just below the fabric. She moves lower yet again, pressing kisses to Clarke’s navel and right above the fly of her jeans.

The zipper parts easily, and soon Lexa is sliding the garment over Clarke’s hips, devouring every inch of skin that’s revealed to her. At another time, she may have left Clarke’s panties in place in order to prolong the main event, to tease both herself and her lover. But right now, Lexa needs Clarke, needs to taste her, feel her, hear what sounds she makes when Lexa brings her to climax. Within moments the pants are laid aside with the rest of their clothing, and Lexa looks up at Clarke.

“Down.” It’s almost a growl, and more curt than Lexa probably ought to be, but English isn’t her first language. As passion clouds her mind, it gets more difficult to articulate sentences in Clarke’s language.

However, Clarke seems to enjoy the command, happily kneeling in front of Lexa and then laying down with a gentle push to the shoulder. And Lexa sits back on her heels for a moment, drinking in the sight before her. Clarke’s skin, while not as flawless as it likely had been before Earth, is still a wonder to Lexa. For all the cruelties life has dealt Clarke, it doesn’t show on her. And then looking isn’t enough, so Lexa leans forward.

She starts with a bite at one of Clarke’s knees, tongue peeking out after to brush at the sensitive skin behind it. She decides she likes the little startled gasps that Clarke makes when Lexa bites her, so she makes her way up Clarke’s thighs with nips and tugs of her teeth, marvelling at how Clarke’s skin shows every little mark. She doesn’t bite nearly as hard as she reaches her goal, but the drag of teeth is still there.

When Lexa reaches the top of Clarke’s thighs, she grins against her skin. She can hear the unevenness in Clarke’s breath, see the flush on her chest when she raises her gaze. But Lexa wants to drive Clarke insane, wants to make her feel so alive that she forgets what it means to live. So she moves her attentions up to Clarke’s hips, leaving a bite here and a bruise there. Her nails drag along the backs of Clarke’s legs, and Lexa delights in the slight arch of Clarke’s back as she strains for contact where she desperately wants it. Clarke’s hands are firmly fisted in the furs at her side, and it takes a while before Lexa realizes Clarke is talking. Well, begging is perhaps a better word for it.

“-please, Lexa, I need you, just touch me properly, please.”

More breathless pleas spill from Clarke’s lips, and Lexa chuckles as she realizes she’s teased the girl more than she meant to. So she simply moves her attention again, shifting so that Clarke’s thighs are placed on her shoulders and her delicate golden curls are in front of Lexa. Lexa smiles and presses one more gentle kiss to the inside of Clarke’s thigh before moving the kisses inwards, pressing them above where Clarke wants her the most, and drawing a whimper from her lover.

Lexa brings one of her hands up and gently parts Clarke’s labia, allowing her to draw her tongue across the girl’s inner lips in one long, slow drag that earns her a gasp. Clarke is so responsive as Lexa repeats the action, and she’s eager to see how Clarke responds to different stimuli. A flick with the tip of her tongue over Clarke’s clit causes hands to find their way into her hair, and sucking gently on the bundle of nerves draws out a litany of words that mean nothing to Lexa. But the hands pushing her head more firmly in place encourage her, and so Lexa continues experimenting, dipping her tongue into Clarke and using it in every manner she’d ever learned how to.

Lexa learns that Clarke talks more than enough for both of them during sex, most of the words seeming to be meaningless. She hears “Fuck” several times, and Lexa assumes it must mean something good, because it’s always accompanied by thighs clenching around her head. When they begin to be heard more frequently, Lexa focuses on maintaining her pattern. 

Clarke’s breathing above her becomes rapid, and then she calls out Lexa’s name and her hands twist almost painfully in Lexa’s hair. Lexa gently laps at Clarke, coaxing her through her orgasm as she tremors around her. Eventually, muscles relax and Lexa is able to crawl up and lay beside the collapsed Clarke. She smiles at her and grasps Clarke’s chin gently, fitting their lips together and enjoying a slow kiss. When they part, Clarke sighs happily.

“Do you want me to…?” Clarke trails off, but her hand on Lexa’s still clothed thigh is indication enough. Lexa shakes her head with a smile.

“Pleasing you is pleasure enough for me.” It’s not a lie, Lexa usually enjoys pleasing her partners more than anything else. And with how… vocally Clarke has enjoyed her, Lexa feels quite accomplished. Clarke sighs and lays back against the furs.

“Good, because I’m exhausted.” Lexa feels proud of the fact that she did this, she managed to exhaust the Princess. And her pride only grows as she sees the small marks on Clarke’s hips and thighs, and remembers the mark on her own neck. Lexa lays down and pats her shoulder lightly.

“Come here.” A small smile curls Lexa’s lips as Clarke accepts her invitation and curls up against her. She traces the fingers of one hand lightly over Clarke’s arm as the other combs through that spectacular golden hair. In this moment, Lexa feels as at peace as she ever has. She feels Clarke’s breath evening out against her skin and watches goosebumps on her arms as the chill air manages to make itself known. Lexa pulls one of the furs over them, delighting as Clarke burrows herself even closer to Lexa beneath it. Lexa’s attention turns to the strands of hair slipping between her fingers, and she has an idea.

“Clarke?” She receives a sleepy “Hm?” from the girl and continues, “May I give you a braid?”

“Mmm, sure.” Lexa can tell from the half slurred speech that Clarke is almost asleep, so she sets to working the delicate hair into an orderly pattern with no particular rush. And in that tree, with Clarke dozing on her shoulder and a design of her on making coming to life against Clarke’s scalp, Lexa feels something new. It’s not the terrifying need of love that she had felt with Costia, it’s something different. Something far more patient, content to be whatever it is, heedless of what anyone says it ought to be. She feels trusted, and safe, and pleased. It’s not love, but to Lexa, it is just as good.

**Author's Note:**

> THIS WAS SO HARD FOR ME TO WRITE A SMALL PART OF. GOD. Anyway, have aromantic Clexa smut that I promised!! As always, you all ought to thank [coldsaturn](http://coldsaturn.tumblr.com) for catching all my errors.
> 
> Anyway, come chat with me [on tumblr!](http://jonnmurphy.tumblr.com) And thanks in advance for commenting/viewing/leaving kudos <3 I know I've been terrible about responding to comments lately, sorry!


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